Luca has two levels of volume. Loud and louder. When he gets really excited, his voice jumps up three octaves and he sometimes repeats himself multiple times.
“You, you know what? You know what, Mom? I saw, I saw the bear cat the other day!”
And then, that will be the story of the day. Sometimes even the week.
Lately, he’s been quoting Jake and the Neverland Pirates: “Holy picture making machine!”
Multiple times a day.
My favorite thing is when I tell him to stop sucking his thumb, he hides his head under his blanket and continues to do so. Because, you know, I have no idea that he’s continuing to do it under his blanket. No clue.
His favorite thing so far seems to be when he gets mail. I got him a subscription to Ranger Rick and it’s seriously the most joy he’ll have in the month. He’ll ‘read’ it from cover to cover, then stare at each picture again, as if it’s all brand new to him. He has magazines from a few years back, even. They never get old.
Matt and I often joke about the fact that he weighs a whopping 32 pounds, with his little sister weighing 30 pounds solid. He’s always been long and lean and has the body of my husband. I have a feeling he’ll be that annoying person who can eat anything and yet still be stick thin.
His favorite food is salad. I’m not saying that to be all, “my kid is so awesome, because he eats healthy,” because truth be told, if I let him eat 10 cookies, he would without thinking. He just loves salad. One day he asked for it for breakfast. The other day I made this fantastic tomato and artichoke chicken pasta and he asked for a spinach salad instead. With extra sunflower seeds, of course. And ranch.
Last night, we had chicken wraps, but Luca wanted a salad.
The day before that, when he finished his pizza, he asked for salad.
I really wish I had that kind of love for salad. Because the love I have for food is usually bad for me stuff, and while he can house a piece of cake, he won’t balk at the giant salad my mom will make and bring over.
My mother in law didn’t know about this, so last week when she visited, she had made herself a giant salad from the Giant Eagle salad bar. She packed it full of broccoli, olives, tomatoes, garbanzos… and when she sat down to eat it, Luca quietly crawled up on the stool next to her and started just picking at it. Julia asked if he wanted a bowl of his own and he said, “No, thanks,” and continued picking at it.
I think she got two bites of it.
Luca also eats salad with his hands, even though he insists on having a fork nearby.
He’s also slightly OCD. Not in a bad way, per say, where I’m worried and feel the need to talk to a specialist, he just has his quirks. For example, I’ll say, “Peanut butter sandwiches for lunch?” and he’ll say, “Yah mom, but no peanuts and no jelly.”
So, of course Matt being Matt will say, “OK, Luca. Here’s your sandwich, extra peanuts and extra jelly!”
Luca finally caught on that Matt’s being sarcastic, but at first he’d flip out, saying “No! No peanuts! NO JELLY!”
Finally, at the age of almost 4, he’s finally fitting into 3T pants. He’s got a long torso, so he’s in 4T already, but the fact that last year I could still have him wear 18 month jeans, this is saying a lot. He eats. He eats a lot. But he’s just got a fast metabolism. He would live off of salad, mandarin oranges, yogurt and bread if given the option.
It’s funny to think that I’ve always, deep down, known he’d be my only son. I always would say, “I just can’t imagine having another little dude.”
I asked him yesterday if he likes having sisters. He said, “Yup! Because I’m your only little man.”
He sure is. . . He sure is.